


Weakness

by Whisper132



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-15
Updated: 2005-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inui and Kaidoh train, Renji collects data, fluff happens, and Sanada and Yukimura show up because I love them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness

Renji often regretted running off without a word to Sadaharu. But, in all honesty, he never expected that Sadaharu would replace him, let alone with the awkward, gangly, gruff, and unintelligent mass of flesh that was Kaidoh Kaoru. It defied data. Last month, Renji watched his former partner play doubles with someone else, probably for the first time. Sadaharu’s movements were so well synched to Kaidoh’s that Renji knew they were sharing a connection deeper than the tennis court, deeper than doubles. In a little over a week, Renji would be squaring off against Sadaharu in singles. All the data pointed to Sadaharu’s insistence on the match. To ensure a win, Renji needed data. To obtain data, he needed to observe Sadaharu. Observing Sadaharu meant observing Kaidoh and Sadaharu. He could find a weakness, easy.

 ** &-& **

At five o’clock, Sadaharu’s alarm went off. Renji knew this because he was poised delicately in the tree outside of Sadaharu’s window and could hear the alarm go off. The alarm sounded for 3.9 seconds before Inui turned it off. The music coming from the alarm was a classical piece that Renji couldn’t identify. Any further data on Sadaharu’s morning routine was lost due to a local policeman’s insistence that Renji remove himself from the tree and come to the police box to answer some questions. Renji complied and the police called his mother to come pick him up.

At six thirty, Renji’s mother dropped him off at school, where Kirihara and Sanada were waiting at the gate. Sanada was looking out at nothing, as was his custom now that Yukimura-buchou’s surgery was at hand. Kirihara was watching everyone, memorizing them (though not as thoroughly as Renji might) and waiting for a chance to exploit their weaknesses. Fortunately, Sanada was there and Kirihara refrained from bullying other students if Sanada was in view. Where Yukimura-buchou would assign laps, Sanada would assign double the quantity and require you to wear lead weights while you ran. Renji often told Sanada that this practice was detrimental to growing bones, but Sanada didn’t seem to care.

“Renji, you’re late.” Sanada smoothed his hair into place then stuck his hands back in his uniform pockets.

Renji tapped his temple and smiled. “I was gathering information for the game against Seigaku.”

“He was stalking that data guy.” Kirihara sneered, his eyes glinting just a little red in the morning light.

“I was not stalking anyone, Akaya.” Renji really hated how perceptive the little brat could be sometimes. He’d have to remember to plan some sort of vile retribution for Akaya- after he’d figured out Sadaharu’s weakness.

Sanada smirked, staring Renji in the eye. “So that’s why your mom had to pick you up from a police box?” Renji supposed his slack jaw must’ve given away his surprise, because Sanada continued, “One of the freshman lives near the box and saw your mother pick you up. I’ll remind you that you carry the pride of Rikkai Dai with you wherever you go. If I hear of an incident of this nature again, you will be removed from the upcoming tournament. Is that clear?”

“Yes fukubuchou.” Sometimes Renji thought Sanada was a pain in the ass, particularly when he started talking about pride and honor. Sanada played tennis because Yukimura played tennis, end of story. The surly fukubuchou would’ve been on the kendo team if Yukimura hadn’t asked him to try out.

“It’s time for practice.” Sanada turned to Kirihara and nodded before leaving.

Renji moved to follow but was stilled by Kirihara’s hand around his bicep. “So, you get anything good?”

 ** &-& **

Fifty laps for defacing the name of Rikkaidai really was excessive, particularly since Renji was trying to collect data for the team. He didn’t tell Sanada that, though. That would’ve earned him another fifty. Agitated and tired of listening to Kirihara’s snickers, Renji skipped out on afternoon practice and went to observe practice at Seigaku.

The first thing that Renji noticed was that, while Sanada made the team run an excessive amount of laps as punishment, Seigaku ran an excessive amount of laps as part of their daily training. Renji would not be mentioning this to Sanada. Sanada would just try to one-up Seigaku and the entire Rikkai team would drop dead from exhaustion.

“Kaidoh, you’ll want to remove the weights today. The extra running seems to have put some strain on your ankles.” Renji watched Sadaharu help his doubles partner remove the aforementioned weights. Sadaharu’s hands lingered on the tanned ankles much longer than necessary and, while Renji had previously been under the assumption that the Mamushi of Seigaku had a temperament to match his tennis skill, it was apparent from the high cheeked blush on the boy’s face that Kaidoh appreciated the special attention.

But really, Sadaharu was showing poor taste in choosing that second year as his doubles partner. True Kaidoh had a vast amount of untapped ability, but he had the personality of a snow crab. Sadaharu could do better.

 ** &-& **

Sanada sat stiffly at the side of Yukimura’s bed. Buchou wasn’t feeling well today, so their usual walk to the roof and back was cancelled. The cancellation was mainly Sanada’s doing as Yukimura refused to believe that he couldn’t make his body do as he willed. “Renji is acting oddly,” Sanada confessed. He didn’t want to trouble Yukimura with this, but he didn’t know what to do. Sanada was a disciplinarian not a psychiatrist.

“The match with Seigaku is coming up, so I suppose he would be,” Yukimura answered softly. “Help me sit up, Genichirou?”

Sanada nodded and moved to get a few spare pillows from the small linen closet near the door. Using those, he propped Yukimura up, careful not to leave any bruises as he lifted the other boy off the bed a bit to reposition him. “This morning he was detained in a police box for snooping around Inui Sadaharu’s home. He skipped afternoon practice.” Sanada’s hands lingered on Yukimura’s sides for just a moment, making sure his friend was comfortable.

“He’ll be back to normal once the match is done. He was very close to Inui in childhood and, from what I’ve gathered, they never put a close to their friendship.” Yukimura’s hand trailed to where Sanada’s rested and stopped, a finger trailing carefully over the back of Sanada’s knuckles. It tickled, but Sanada was too entranced to move his hand away. These moments with Yukimura were rare, particularly now that he was under surveillance all day. Any moment now, a nurse would barge in and Sanada would have to retreat to the far corner of the room.

“Renji is suffering and I cannot assist him. I am frustrated.” This was the only way Sanada knew how to speak of his feelings; nice, simple sentences. There was a time- before Seiichi- that he wouldn’t have bothered to voice his concerns at all, but Yukimura got upset when Sanada internalized.

Yukimura’s hand moved again to envelop Sanada’s. “Then let him know you’re there for him. He may just be able to talk to you.” Yukimura gave Sanada’s hand a squeeze before a knock on the door forced them to quickly part. “Come in,” Yukimura called when Sanada was in the visitor’s chair.

“Yukimura-kun, it’s time for your medication.”

Sanada tried not to scowl at the nurse. She seemed nice enough, but he couldn’t help it. She was interrupting his time with Yukimura, which was getting shorter and shorter the closer Operation Day came. He’d be happy when the operation was done and Yukimura could come back to the courts, where he belonged. “I’ll go and speak with Renji now. Be strong.” Sanada let the ‘for me’ remain unspoken, as it always was.

“Hai. Give the team my love.” Yukimura waved a white, thin hand and smiled. Despite his pallor, Yukimura still looked radiant. He would be even more so with the first place medallion hanging around his neck.

 ** &-& **

When Renji arrived home, Sanada was at the kitchen table, speaking with his mother. Judging from Sanada’s attire- his tie was slightly loosened and his shirt was untucked- the fukubuchou came straight from his daily visit to Yukimura. Given the average visit length of half an hour, Sanada had been speaking with Renji’s mother for that last hour and half, give or take a few minutes. How his mother could have possibly carried on a conversation with Sanada for so long was a bit of information Renji would like to get ahold of.

“Renji, Sanada-kun is here to visit you. I’ve invited him for dinner.” Renji’s mother always invited people over for dinner. This stemmed from her inability to make a meal that catered to less than five people and, while Renji could eat for two on most days, Renji’s father often took dinner at the office. Such was the life of an accountant.

“Yes mother.” Renji turned to Sanada and crooked his head in the direction of the bathroom. “This way.” Sanada stood and followed without saying a word. Though Renji had been loose friends with Sanada for the last three years, he didn’t really understand how the other boy worked. Sanada, acting as a singular unit, was quiet, stern, and completely unpersonable. Yet, somehow, he always managed to see that people were taken care of. The homework Renji missed because he was out scouting a team would always be in his locker at the end of the day. The notes Akaya needed to pass a test would always surface, copied from Sanada’s notes the previous year. Even now, with Yukimura in the hospital, Sanada continued to take care of not only the team, but their ailing buchou. Renji wondered when Sanada’s stamina would give out.

Halfway down the hall, Sanada stopped and looked down at Renji. Sanada’s lips moved wordlessly a few times then, with a grimace, Sanada spoke. “I am worried for you, Renji.”

Processing Sanada’s words took a little longer than usual; about three minutes to be accurate. “I’m fine, but I appreciate your concern.” Sanada vocally expressing himself was, while not unheard of, an uncommon occurance. Renji wasn’t so sure he enjoyed being the focus of said occurance. Had Sanada come all this way because he was concerned?

“Your obsession with Inui Sadaharu is unhealthy. Judging from Akaya’s report, you garnered no useful information from this morning’s potentially disastrous events.” Sanada was speaking quietly, but Renji was sure his mother was going to hear everything and have questions. The last thing Renji wanted to do was explain his fixation on Inui Sadaharu to his mother.

“If we could go to my room and discuss this a little more privately, please?” Renji didn’t need to watch Sanada to know that he’d agree. Sanada respected privacy above all things, except perhaps Yukimura. Once they were in his room, Renji closed the door and locked it. “I am not obsessed with Sadaharu, I am merely ensuring a win. I cannot adapt to his playing style if I know nothing about it.”

Sanada’s eyebrow arched and the ghosts of a grin floated across his mouth. “And what did you learn this afternoon?”

Oh, Renji had learned plenty. He learned that Kaidoh Kaoru underwent training according to a special training menu that Sadaharu devised. Said training menu was carried out, under Sadaharu’s supervision, after the main practice was over. Sadaharu and Kaidoh ran together, did racquet forms together, and, when all the muscle training was done, Sadaharu “supervised” Kaidoh as he waded into a stream, shirtless, and swung a towel through the water. After that, they went to a restaurant to eat. Sadaharu paid, even though Kaidoh protested that Sadaharu “always paid.” Sadaharu cited that it was “a senpai’s duty to look after the well-being of his kouhai.” The statement would’ve been more sincere had Sadaharu not raked his eyes down Kaidoh’s chest.

“Renji, I’m waiting for an answer.”

Renji opened his mouth to reply but found that he didn’t have any information that would convince Sanada he hadn’t wasted the afternoon pining after Sadaharu. “I-I need a moment to tabulate my data.” He sat down on his bed and took a few deep breathes that he disguised with a “thinking pose.” He had recovered some information on his scout this afternoon, he just needed to find a bit that wasn’t related to Sadaharu or Kaidoh, or the interaction of the two. “Fuji’s backhand is suffering from a five degree tilt, which throws off his returns.” Yes, that was good. More, more. “Kawamura’s accuracy has improved and is double what it was at the beginning of the season.”

“You gave me this information in last week’s report. I would like something new.” Sanada moved forward and placed a hand on Renji’s shoulder. “It is okay to be upset because of Inui, but it is unhealthy for you to fixate to this level.” Sanada’s posture straightened until he was at his full height, towering over Renji. “You will not investigate Seigaku any further. Am I clear?”

Sanada gave orders all the time, though rarely to Renji. Perhaps that was why his mouth was hanging open like a dead fish. “Hai fukubuchou.” Renji’s mother’s call to dinner interrupted anything else Renji might have said.

 ** &-& **

“Inui-senpai, we’re being watched again.” Kaidoh looked around for his shirt. If someone was going to be scrutinizing him, he’d rather not be half nude.

“Ignore him, Kaidoh. He’ll go away.” Inui continued to scribble in his notebook. “Kaidoh, the shirt ads uneven resistance to your training and can be detrimental to the development of muscle mass. We’ve been over this.”

That was a bit of “data” that Kaidoh had never put much stock in. If there was someone watching, he was going to be wearing his shirt. “I’m cold,” he told Inui, a healthy dose of his snake hiss coating the words. “I don’t like being watched, senpai.” Kaidoh glanced carefully toward the bushes. It was that guy with the weird hair and closed eyes again. What was his problem? He’d been following them around all week. “Fssshu. Maybe we should call the police.”

“That will not be necessary. He is an old acquaintance of mine and is endeavoring to obtain data for the upcoming match.” Inui closed his notebook. “I can ask him to stop if you like, though there is only a twenty percent chance of him complying.”

Old acquaintances didn’t stalk you. Inui-senpai had creepy friends. “I’m going home, senpai.” Kaidoh began to wring out his towel and slosh his way to the bank. He could train as easily at home, where no one was staring at him.

Inui stood and presented Kaidoh with a dry towel. “It is unwise to stop your workout halfway through, Kaidoh.” Inui-senpai’s eyes wandered over Kaidoh’s chest and the Mamushi became self-conscious.

“Not here senpai, there are people watching.” On a normal day, when there weren’t creepy people watching, Kaidoh would gladly let Inui stare at his chest for the usual five minute interval. Kaidoh enjoyed it when Inui appreciated the hard work Kaidoh put into his body. But now that there was someone watching, it was all too embarrassing. “Goodnight, senpai. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.” Kaidoh jogged to his bag and began his run home. Hopefully Inui would get rid of that guy and they could continue on with their usual practices tomorrow. Tomorrow was Thursday, and Inui always stole a kiss on Thursdays.

 ** &-& **

Sanada placed Renji’s homework in his locker, right atop yesterday’s homework. This was getting ridiculous. Sanada had specifically ordered Renji to leave Seigaku alone, not to further his endeavors to break his own heart.

“Sanada-fukubuchou, a girl in my class said she saw Renji down near Seigaku yesterday. He followed that glasses guy and the snake guy down to some river.” Kirihara leaned against the lockers with a thud. “Want me to go get him?”

“That will not be necessary.” Though Kirihara’s offer was tempting. Wouldn’t it be amusing to see little Akaya dragging Renji back to Rikkai by his hair? Yukimura wouldn’t approve, though. “I have informed Jackal of the practice schedule for today and he will be acting captain in my absence. Do as he says.” He had to tell Kirihara to obey or the little demon would wander about on his own, terrorizing the first years and frustrating the upperclassmen. But, despite that, he was a good kid.

“Can I have a match against him when he gets back?” Kirihara’s eyes were sparkling. It was cute in a rather bloody way.

“Yes, so long as he isn’t injured. We need him for the match against Seigaku.” Sanada gave into the urge to pat Kirihara on the head. It was something Yukimura did often. “You should get your laps started before you miss the opening rallies.” Sanada hoisted his tennis bag and set off for the train station. Where the hell was Seigaku again?

 ** &-& **

Kaidoh refused to remove his shirt, no matter how many times Inui informed him it was detrimental to his health. The shirt did offer an unbalanced rotation and Kaidoh had a risk, though only an eleven percent one, of over-rotating and pulling a muscle. Ninety percent of the reason Inui insisted that Kaidoh practice in the river without a shirt on was because the sight of Kaidoh’s rippling abdominals coated in water was…visually pleasing. Renji was ruining everything.

“I will be right back, Kaidoh. I am going to remove the source of your discomfort.” Inui carefully set his data notebook to the side, covering it with a towel just in case. He was working on a new juice recipe and it was better for Kaidoh not to know what he was drinking. When Inui reached the top of the embankment, Renji was walking away in mock casualty. “Renji, a word if I might.”

“Oh, Sadaharu, I was just collecting some information. Your second years are strong.” A quick grimace flashed across Renji’s cow-like countenance.

“Please refrain from collecting data on Kaidoh, it unnerves him.” Inui adjusted his glasses. “You are welcome to observe any other member of the team, but Kaidoh-“

“Is yours?” Renji offered with a sneer.

“Jealousy does not suit you, Renji. If I recall correctly, it was you who left, not me. Do not take your regrets out on my doubles partner. It would make me very unhappy.” Inui adjusted his glasses, moving them so he could stare Renji directly in the eye. “I will see you at the match this weekend.” Inui turned back toward Kaidoh. If Renji left now, Inui might still be able to sneak his Thursday Kiss in before Kaidoh’s jog home.

 ** &-& **

The last person Renji wanted to meet on his way home was Sanada. The fukubuchou was probably going to berate him for skipping practice, and classes, two days in a row to satisfy his “unhealthy fixation.” Sanada had it easy; he was in love with Yukimura and, while Sanada had never specifically told their buchou about his feelings, it was common knowledge that Yukimura knew about them and reciprocated. Renji, by contrast, was in love with a ghost; a ghost who had evolved into a suave and intelligent man in love with his kouhai. The world was neither fair nor logical.

“Come on Renji.” Sanada’s command was softer than expected; the arm that guided Renji, oddly light.

“Practice will be over by the time we get there.” It was well into the afternoon. Unless there were extra laps assigned, everyone would have packed up by now.

“We’re not going to practice. Yukimura would like to talk to you.” Sanada said it the same way Renji’s mother informed him that his father would like to speak with him. It had an edge of finality with a thread of remorse running through it.

Speaking with Yukimura was rarely a pleasant experience for Renji. Usually, the buchou would kindly point out Renji’s defects and, in a nice, calm way, inform him that he should shape up or, perhaps, Rikkai’s tennis team wasn’t the place for him. The last bit was never stated, but it was implied. In his own way, Yukimura was harsher than Sanada. Sanada offered physical punshiment. Yukimura offered a guilt that lasted weeks.

At the hospital, Sanada took a seat in the waiting room while Renji went up to visit Yukimura. He didn’t need to knock on the door, it was already open, and Yukimura was standing in a cotton robe, staring out his window. “Come in, Renji,” he called, still looking out over the city. “It’s been a while since you visited.”

“I have been busy.” These opening dialogues weren’t necessary. They both knew why Renji was here. But, Yukimura was nothing if not observant of the simple niceties. Perhaps that was why he and Sanada got on so well; they both clung to useless formality. “I apologize for not coming more often. I hope Sanada has conveyed my well wishes in my absence.”

Yukimura turned, smiling. Yukimura always smiled, high and bright, right before he tore you to pieces. “Sanada mentioned you’ve been observing Seigaku recently. How is that going?” Yukimura sat at the end of his hospital bed and patted the space next to him. “Sit and tell me what you’ve learned.”

Renji closed the door and moved to sit next to his buchou. “I have learned that playing Sadaharu will be difficult.” Even if Yukimura was going to rip his pride to shreds, Renji could count on his buchou to listen and be somewhat sympathetic to his plight. There certainly wasn’t anyone else he could tell. “I thought that he might retain some of the Sadaharu I knew before, but he has moved on. He has surpassed me.”

“Perhaps it is you who have surpassed him.” Yukimura turned to look out the window. “When we were first years, do you remember how poor Sanada’s returns were? He had plenty of speed but no accuracy.”

Renji laughed. He did remember Sanada, swinging a racquet like a sword, grumbling when the ball wouldn’t stay in the court. Those had been good times. “He has overcome that obstacle.”

“He has more than overcome it. His speed is greater than mine, as is his accuracy.” A trace of bitter concern washed across Yukimura’s features and was gone. The buchou turned to Renji, eyes sparkling. “It is wonderful to watch him, ne?”

“H-hai.” Renji wasn’t sure what Yukimura was getting at, but it was always wise to agree when Yukimura was praising Sanada.

“I have been afraid recently, Renji. I have been afraid that, because Sanada has surpassed me, he will leave. Every morning I wake up, ready for him to decide that he’d rather be somewhere else rather than visiting an invalid.” Yukimura was shaking, just a bit. The room was warm. “But every day, he comes. It is a small miracle.”

“I have not spoken with Sadaharu in many years. He is not as I remember him.” It was all well and good if Yukimura wanted to vent his frustrations, Renji would just like their discussion to follow a clear path rather than the coiled one Yukimura seemed to be working on.

“You have changed as well, Renji. Your mind is sharper; your style, more refined. You are not as he remembers, either.” Yukimura adjusted his robe around his green pajamas. “Asking someone to regress is very cruel, don’t you think? Wouldn’t it be much better to see if there is something in this new Inui that appeals to you?”

“He is…involved. He has another doubles partner now.” Renji tried not to sound bitter, but he couldn’t hold the small growl back.

“He was lonely, Renji. You can’t begrudge him for seeking out someone in your absence. If you really want him, the current Inui, you will have to want him enough to be patient.” Yukimura stood, moving again toward the window. “Every day I am ready to let Sanada go. Do you know why, Renji?” Yukimura turned, the overhead lights haloing around him. Renji shook his head in answer. He never understood Yukimura and never really wanted to. “I am ready to let him go because I love him more than I love myself.” There were tears in Yukimura-buchou’s eyes, moving Renji to stand.

“Sanada isn’t going anywhere, buchou. He’s waiting in the lobby to come visit you.” Yukimura wiped away his tears and smiled. It was a small, grateful smile. “I’ll go get him for you.” Renji walked out of the room a touch faster than normal, but he didn’t want to deal with the power of Yukimura’s emotions. In the face of that, who was he to talk about an old crush?

In the lobby, Sanada was sitting stiffly and properly on a plastic bench. “Yukimura-buchou would like to see you now.” Renji felt it only proper to warn, “He’s been crying.”

“Why?”

“He thought that you might leave.” Renji heard Sanada grunt in reply before he shoved past and stalked to the stairs. Sanada didn’t take elevators; stairs were better for training.

The visit with Yukimura gave Renji pause. Was Sadaharu really what he wanted or was Renji just upset because he wasn’t what Sadaharu wanted? These thoughts flickered through his mind as he left the hospital. It would be unwise to wait for Sanada. Sanada usually visited for half an hour but, if Yukimura was upset, Sanada was likely to violate visitation rules and stay the night. Sanada bowed to no rules but his own or those made by Yukimura. Today that thought made Renji just the littlest bit sick to his stomach.

Two days. He had two days until everything would be laid to rest. Renji walked home in the fading light.


End file.
